Every Saturday, I don my "Treasure Hunter" hat (it’s really a flamingo-shaped sun visor) and hit estate clear-outs, barn finds, and the occasional driveway pile labeled “FREE (hopefully haunted).” I’ve found everything from a taxidermy squirrel in a wedding dress to a singing fish that only knows show tunes. Once, someone left a velvet Elvis on my doorstep—still warm, oddly.
My sidekicks? Three flamingos named Fred, Ethel, and Lucy. They perch in my yard by day but by night, they wiggle loose and scout the neighborhood for hidden gems. Fred has a nose for vintage Tupperware, Ethel once found a sealed Furby, and Lucy —well, she just causes chaos.
We gather the loot, clean off the mysterious goo, and list it all on eBay, where treasure seekers like you give it a second (or seventh) life. One man's junk is another man's flamingo-endorsed fortune!
Every Saturday, I don my "Treasure Hunter" hat (it’s really a flamingo-shaped sun visor) and hit estate clear-outs, barn finds, and the occasional driveway pile labeled “FREE (hopefully haunted).” I’ve found everything from a taxidermy squirrel in a wedding dress to a singing fish that only knows show tunes. Once, someone left a velvet Elvis on my doorstep—still warm, oddly.
My sidekicks? Three flamingos named Fred, Ethel, and Lucy. They perch in my yard by day but by night, they wiggle loose and scout the neighborhood for hidden gems. Fred has a nose for vintage Tupperware, Ethel once found a sealed Furby, and Lucy —well, she just causes chaos.
We gather the loot, clean off the mysterious goo, and list it all on eBay, where treasure seekers like you give it a second (or seventh) life. One man's junk is another man's flamingo-endorsed fortune!